


Fox and the Devil

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-06-28
Updated: 2002-06-28
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:58:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11868132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	Fox and the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

Fox and the Devil by DeborahC

_Fox and the Devil_

By Deborah D. Charlow 

* * *

_The Legend,_ October, 1735 - Burlington County, NJ 

A wild nor'easter ravages the Jersey coast as Mother Leeds labors to give birth to her 13th child within a few miles of the Atlantic. "What do I want with another mouth to feed!" she screams between contractions. The old midwives assisting her try to calm her as the wind rattles the house. "I would this child were a devil!" 

Within a few minutes, the baby comes and every one is relieved. Mother Leeds has delivered a fine boy. One of the women places the newborn into a cradle and turns presently to attend the mother. Suddenly there is an ungodly howl and everyone turns to see the child in a fit. His face becomes deformed and hideous; he sprouts bat-like wings and a tail. The monster stands and with an ugly laugh, emerges into the air, dives at the occupants and crashes through the shuttered window and into the storm. 

To this very day, many have seen the Jersey Devil as he prowls lonely country lanes and cedar lined sandy paths through the sometimes-sinister landscape of the Pine Barrens of South Jersey. Some say he takes a victim or two upon occasion. Others say he only feeds on the odd dog, cow, or chicken. Some say he is a harbinger of war and crisis. Others might say that to see him brings personal wealth. Whatever his purpose, he always scares the bejebers out of everyone. 

The Present - Bastso, Wharton State Forest, NJ 

I am a Watcher. My name is Mike Ayala. My current assignment is Ellery Fox, a 4500-year-old immortal who is a recovering heroine user. Known to be hostile to Watchers and occasionally displaying unpredictable behavior, I do my utmost to keep my presence unknown to him. So far I have successfully followed him through parts of eastern Pennsylvania, across into New Jersey, over to and down the Shore area toward Atlantic City, and now through Absecon, Smithville, and Leeds Point. I catch up with him at Batsto in the restored village. 

He stands against a split rail fence, a map, half- folded, half crushed in his left hand. He is looking out at the lake enjoying the last little bit of color after last night's storm had all but ripped most of the leaves away. He appeared a bit disheveled, wanting some sprucing up, his sandy colored hair brushing unevenly past his collar. His face is thin as compared to the archive photo of 46 years ago, with prominent cheekbones and very cool, expressionless, blue eyes. He wraps a long tawny coat around his gaunt frame. No doubt but I think he is still troubled by the effects of the imprisonment and drug addiction he endured in a Burmese labor camp almost seven months ago. His romantic interest, Julia Teller, an immortal he met in Croatia, had left Cleveland, apparently on business but I suspected there might have been differences between them. Fox appeared not to be able to concentrate on his law practice and wandered east, making short stops in old haunts of two hundred years past. No Watcher had been able to keep with him for very long since the end of the Second World War and the last time there was a confirmed sighting happened almost twenty-five years ago. I was feeling pretty smug, secretly smiling as I passed by, crossing the bridge, walking toward the workers' cottages that lined an unpaved village street. He mumbles aloud. I try to slow my pace to catch what he is saying and then he suddenly turns to me. 

"They seem to be all gone now, or at least most of them." He looks me in the eye and I can't quite get away. 

"Oh?" I say. 

"Yeah, all the old places. Ong's Hat, Double Trouble, Burrsville, even Seven Stars. Great places. Nice people, too. 

"Well, nothing stays the same," I said as I tried to get away but he persisted. 

"You know," he went on, "during the war, these little places saw more action than most people could imagine now, around here and further north. Monmouth, Trenton, Morristown." 

"Oh," I thought to myself, " _that war._ " 

He yawned. 

I continued on a ways, happy to be away from him, but damn, now he had a good look at me and it would be twice as hard to keep my presence unknown. I suddenly felt fairly stupid. I walked on toward one of the cottages some distance away. When I turned back to look, Fox had disappeared. In fact, one else seemed to be around. I went inside, hoping to elude any thoughts of his that I might anything more than just a tourist. I watched the street from a window but there was no sign of him. After a few minutes, I stepped out, crossed the street, and proceeded to enter another house. 

Once inside, I turned to step close to a window in a front parlor but as I did, Fox appeared from behind the narrow staircase and grabbed my left wrist, exposing the tattoo, turning it back till the pain left me helpless on my knees. Just as quickly, I heard the stinging sound of steel released from its hiding place and held at my neck. I could scarce breath. Strangely, the only thing I could think of, in what could be my last moment, was how I had blown my assignment and how the Watchers would lose him again, maybe for another fifty years. I would be remembered as a failure. 

"Just what do you think you're doing?" he snarled. 

"My job. Only my job." 

"Your job? You must be considering early retirement." He pressed the blade on my throat until I could feel the undeniably sharp edge. 

" Oh, God. Please, don't," I implored. It sounded odious to me, less than brave. I was surprised that I could beg for my life. 

He released me, dropping me to the floor in the process. I looked up. Now what? 

"How did that feel, Watcher? Do you know how many times I have been in that position knowing that there was someone there who could help me? It has only been the sheerest dumb luck that I have stayed alive. Or how about seeing someone, who means a great deal to you, cut down, and knowing again, there was someone who might have prevented that? Do you know what that does to you? Can you appreciate the agony?" 

I started to defend my position but he cut me off. 

"Oh, no. Hey, I have heard it all so don't bother going into your little spiel." 

I slowly picked myself up with my hands raised. I said gently, "You are too important. I was honored to have you as an assignment and now to my great shame, I have failed in it." 

"Don't you know that the Watchers let you interact with Immortals, ever since that incident in France that killed all those high and mighty weasels in the upper echelon. You ever heard of Joe Dawson?" 

"Yes, of course but that's not the way I want to do it. It seems less natural that way. I think I get better information if you don't know I'm around." 

"Natural? Natural! Too flaming bad. You are invading my privacy. MY... PRIVACY. Don't you get it? If I did it to you, you'd have me in jail!" Fox waved his sword at me. 

"I totally understand your meaning. But like I said, it's for the sake of history." 

"Okay. You want some history?" he said with a wicked smile. "I'll give you some history." 

He grabbed my shirt collar and pulled me out of the building. 

"We're we going?" I asked nervously. 

"You'll see." 

"What are you going to do?" 

"You'll see! Now be cooperative. I also have a gun." 

He stuffed me into his car and we silently took off down county road 542, heavily forested and remote, until we got to Rt. 9 and then headed south. We pulled up to the Chestnut Neck Inn, a restaurant on the mouth of the Mullica River. You could see out beyond the vast, flat, grassy sedges almost to Great Bay. A tranquil place, it marked a tiny village and marina next to a maze of waterways. I was nervous to the point of nausea and we walked, or rather I stumbled into the bar and pulled up a pair of stools. 

"Rum and coke," he said. You got Jamaican rum? No? Damn. How about dark rum. My friend here will have the same." 

No, thank you. I don't drink." 

"You do now," he said seriously. "Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum. Here's to the Watchers and their _victims._ " 

He took a healthy swallow as I did, looking me straight in the eye. He picked up one small piece of cheese and then shoved the rest of the plate toward me. 

"Now, here's your history. It was a dark and stormy night." 

"A dark and stormy night?" 

"Yes, it was. Bear with me here. You going to take notes or something?" 

"Oh, yeah, of course." 

Flashback - New Jersey Coast, 1777 

Jamie Foxcroft, as Ellery Fox was known in those days, long ago sold his farm in Virginia. Too much of the economy depended upon slave labor which he could not stomach. He wandered north till he settled in around the area near Toms River in the colony of New Jersey. He bought a top sail schooner, formerly belonging to the British and "liberated" by rebel militia. He renamed her the _Revenge_ and ran cargo up to northern ports until the British took possession of New York. Then he took to smuggling salt, needed for making gunpowder along with other supplies for the war effort. A vigorous black market grew around the small towns and villages that surrounded Barnegat Bay and the many coves and inlets provided ideal cover for the "free traders". Jamie made a good living and he felt the work suited his desire for a little adventure especially after so many years of working a farm. 

Whenever he had the chance, Jamie would harass British boats and relieve them of their cargo and crew and sell the boats at auction. He enjoyed the chance to get back at the British Navy who often engaged in the practice of seizing American private vessels on the high seas and pressing the sailors into service. The British, of course, considered the rebel activity nothing less than common piracy and became highly annoyed. 

One day, in late December, Jamie had been working in tandem with another sloop, the _Dart,_ in pursuit of a British brig. The weather had been good and the wind in their favor up till the afternoon. Then the wind increased and began to blow out of the northeast. With that wind also came a royal man of war. Spying the huge ship off the port stern, both the _Revenge_ and the _Dart_ came about, retired from the chase, and parted company to find separate shelter. The _Dart_ quickly disappeared along with the brig but the man of war continued to bear down on the _Revenge._

Soon the evening darkness would begin to close down around the ships and the wind whipped up toothy white caps and made the going even more difficult. Snow, razor sharp and wet, had begun to pelt the sails, spars, and crew. Jamie looked at his first mate and both knew the situation was heart- sickenly serious. They were now too far north of Cranberry Inlet to find shelter in the bay. Jamie had to continue up to the safe shoals of the Manasquan River in hope of surviving the night. 

The Revenge's slow progress, as she began reefing in her sails and fighting the gale, placed her within the deathly embrace of the man of war. Soon both captain and crew of the schooner knew they were close to safety but the man of war was still just off their starboard side under full sail. Through the dim light of the driving snow, the British ship fired a shot that tore through the rigging and landed just in front of the bow. The first mate turned to Jamie and screamed through the howling wind. 

"That captain is mad!" 

"And damned stupid, too," Jamie yelled back. 

Jamie knew that the British couldn't board and seize them in the terrible weather but only wanted to destroy them. More than that, Jamie knew how close they were to treacherous sandbars. He hoped high tide might carry them over and, at the same time, he was also certain that the man of war would get not get by. Without any choice, he swung his ship to port and headed by dead reckoning for the mouth of the river. 

The waves carried the vessel over the outer bars, one swell and then another just on the point of breaking, lifting the bow out of the water and then down into a valley where the keel scraped bottom. It was then that the crew of the _Revenge_ heard the terrible explosion of breaking masts and hull as the man of war lost control and foundered on an outer bar. However, the crew of the rebel ship could hardly feel any joy in that. 

Soon the waves carried the _Revenge_ as far as it would go. Jamie and the first mate held on to the wheel as best as they could. The doomed vessel slammed into a bar, lifted and slammed down hard again, splitting her keel. As the sea churned around them, breakers repeatedly beat the ship until she lay broadside, absorbing every impact. The crew gathered toward the fo'c's'ile and hung on until one last wave tore down upon them and the bow broke apart sending them all into the freezing cold ocean. 

Nothing short of a miracle occurred and all, except one, escaped death that night. The British ship, being farther out, would not fare as well and only a few souls from her would make it alive to shore. A small group of locals had gathered on the beach. They always seemed to know when a ship was in trouble, no matter what time of night. Whether they were there to help or rob was another matter but this night the crew of the _Revenge_ was more than lucky. All were rescued except Captain Jamie who was not seen again that particular night save by one who sat alone upon a dune. 

This observer stood up in the darkness on his vantage point, stretched and shook his leathery and substantial wings, adjusted his cloak and then let the wind pick him up and carry into the night. As he negotiated the gale, slipping forward and back like a gull, he noticed a body floating toward the mouth of the river, being pulled in by the strong in-coming tide. He followed the life less form, checking its progress, thinking that such a one might make for a welcome meal in the midst of a bleak and spare winter. He would be patient for the old river to bring the meal to him and carefully flew through the storm to Osborne Island, farther up stream. This is the place where the Lenape women had dried their fish in the summer time, not all that long ago. Now, the island was just a bit of uninhabited land covered by pine, oak, and dogwood. 

In the wee hours, the observer watched as the waves rolled the body upon the narrow beach and he was there to retrieve it. He pulled it ever so carefully to the leeward side and in a small indenture at the bottom of the yellow bluffs, sheltered from the snow and wind; he lit a fire and placed the body next to it. He sat back against the hill in a little nest of red pine needles, pulled out a long clay pipe and smiled contentedly to himself. 

A mere twenty minutes had drifted by when he witnessed something strange happening to his future supper. The thing shivered a bit. He jumped upon the body and looked closely at it just as Jamie opened his eyes. Stare met stare and both creatures screamed in terror, each rolling in opposite direction. 

"Sweet Jesus!" they cried. The Devil was equally surprised by the corpse come back to life. Within a moment, he knew he had an advantage and with a single hop, the Devil pinned Jamie tightly up against the bluff. Jamie had long heard the stories of the Leeds' Devil but had never given them any credibility until now. Before him and very close to him was an extraordinary creature with a furry brown body, wings and a tail. His face was of an ugly type of horsy shape but his eyes contained an undeniable twinkle as if he was up for some sort of sport. 

Jamie tried moving his mouth but nothing would come out. The Devil gave a sort of snort of exasperation. He took another sniff. 

"Well, sir. Do you have a name, sir?" growled the Devil. 

Jamie kind of huffed before any sound came out. "Jamie Foxcroft, at your service, sir." 

"Well, Master Foxcroft, I am known as Jack Leeds in these parts. So, now, try to speak again, sir. What kind of man be you?" 

"I don't reckon your meaning, sir." The Devil held him in an iron grasp. 

"No ordinary man could have survived what you did. I saw it all. Besides, you smell peculiar. There is a vast difference about you that I just can't put to right." 

"A man, sir. Just a man." 

Jack laughed. "You're lying, but well, we'll leave it for now. Come over here to fire and warm...yourself." 

The Devil looked over his companion. The man had been through a rough time and looked it. His plain but sturdy clothes were all but ripped to shreds. He was minus both shoes but yet his long hair managed to hang on to the ribbon that tied up his queue. Most strangely of all, he was breathing. 

Jack sat down trying to decide what to do. It was not in his nature to kill men, especially for food, though such a thing was not out of the realm of possibilities. There was something different about this one and perhaps making a meal out of him would not be to his advantage this night. Jamie was still overcome with fear. He didn't know what he was facing. He longed for an immortal with a sharp sword. At least he would know how to handle that. He saw the way the Devil looked at him and he felt like prey. He pulled his coat closer around him. 

Finally, the Devil spoke. "I tell you, Master Foxcroft...Jamie, if I may be so bold. You, sir, were to be my supper this night but you woke up. Good for you but not for me. I tell you, however, you owe me. You could have floated up to the Narrows and been stuck in ice till spring if it were not for me. So, sir, I'll get you away to a place where you can find some food and shelter." 

"And in return, sir?" 

"And in return, I might come to you when I have a need and you will be honor bound to do me service no matter what. Is that agreeable to you, sir?" 

"Indeed, sir. I shall do my best to honor our arrangement but what if I don't?" 

"Why, sir, I shall eat you on the spot." Jack smiled broadly bearing some lovely, long, and sharp teeth. 

Jack took out a bottle of Jamaican rum from a strong box and handed it to Jamie. "Warm your salt water bones, Jamie." The sailor took a healthy swig and handed it back to Jack who followed suite. 

"Tell me this, Master Jack, there are those who say you lure ships to their end upon the beach." 

"Nay, sir. I shall tell you but that I have no more control over wind and waves than you. I have no desire to see poor creatures such as yourself meet a terrible end like that." 

"Even rebel sailors?" 

"Even so. Sir, I am a patriot! I have wandered this countryside for two score years and know much of it. This is my country and these my people though I've had my share of scorn and fear. Still, there are those who, in their company, I have spent many a pleasant hour. How do you think General Washington gets his intelligence? Who do you think told him of Hessians at Trenton? 

"You have my gratitude, altogether." 

"Then I say," said Jack, "we clap hands upon it." 

"Well done, sir." 

"Well done, indeed. Now, sir, what might you have in your pocket?" 

"I beg pardon?" said Jamie taken aback. 

"A token, an exchange of good will between friends." 

"Oh! Well, the sea has not left me any but...here, I have a shilling. It is yours." 

"Wonderful, wonderful. I shall keep it always. Now, this is what I have for you." 

Jack got up and moved over towards another box and opened it. Jamie could not tell what Jack had placed within his cloak. Jack whirled around, now a bit unsteady, and held high in his hand, or paw, a gleaming cutlass with a shiny brass hilt. 

Jamie had no thought but to run but once again his escape was impossible because of his position against the bluff and now he was a little more than tipsy. He felt as though Jack had guessed his identity. He could hear his heart thump and was sure Jack could hear it too. There was no hiding the look on Jamie's face. 

"Jamie, I did not mean to frighten you so. Take heart, man, or whatever the hell you are. This is my token for you." Jack plopped down in the sand, took another swallow and handed the sword to Jamie with a flourish, hilt first. 

"Oh, Jack. I can't take this. It is much too valuable." 

"Think nothing of it. I just had a feeling you'd like it. I'm sure you can put it to better use than I." 

"Indeed, I can Master Jack." 

"It belonged to Kidd, you know," Jack whispered, looking over his shoulder as if someone would hear. 

"No!" 

"Upon my honor as gentleman." 

"Kidd was a bit before your time, was he not, sir?" asked Jamie as he took hold of the bottle. 

"Yes, but I have it upon the best authority that that was his sword because I found it - me." 

"And how, pray, did you know where to look?" 

"The ghost of one of his crew, murdered to guard the treasure horde, told me where to look." 

Jamie laughed out loud but upon looking at the Devil, he saw the Devil was not laughing. 

"The pirate," Jack went on, "annoyed with his current situation and all - and -having to watch over the treasure and all, said, 'The devil take it.' And that's when I showed up." 

"Oh." 

"Just take good care of it and it will take good care of you. T'would make me happier than a clam at high tide." 

"My deepest gratitude, Master Jack." 

"Now, Jamie, the storm has gone. It's almost morning and I can take you over the river." 

"Where then is your boat?" 

"No boat." 

"Swimming is not a good idea at this time of year." 

"Nor swim. We fly." 

Before Jamie knew what was happening, he was lifted by the shoulders and flown across the water in a wobbly and intoxicated fashion. Catching a gust here and there, they almost fell into the drink. The Devil paid it no mind as he, in a fine voice, sang _Barbara Allen,_ and Jamie joined in as they skipped above the waves. Jack dropped Jamie into a snowdrift near the front door of the Cook farm on the north end of Squan Beach. 

"Now, tell Sarah Cook that Jack Leeds has come to make good for the favor's he's owed and that she's to take you in for a while until you can arrange to get home." 

"Aye, aye, Master Jack." Jamie held out his hand and the Devil took it. 

"Didn't anyone ever tell you about making deals with the devil? Remember our agreement." 

The thought tempered Jamie's spirit and he turned to knock on the door. He turned once again to look behind him and the devil was gone. The door opened. 

Shivering, Jamie introduced himself and then said "Jack Leeds..." whereupon, Mistress Sarah let out a little shriek, grabbed Jamie stuffing him through the door, looked quickly around, and slammed the door behind her as she scurried inside. 

Monmouth County, NJ - 1814 

Captain Jamie Foxcroft of the US Navy spurred his horse into a gallop along the old sandy Indian trail that now snakes along as the main post road between Toms River and Mt. Holly. He wanted to make sure he found lodgings long before the sun went down and did not fancy picking his way through the lonely pines after dark. 

His horse held steady. The late March sky displayed an orange glow against what was left of the winter gray. Here and there, a few maple buds were just beginning to swell and an intoxicatingly sweet and heady whiff of air stole into the senses, teasing one into believing spring was just about to commence. A subtle chorus of peepers rounded out the experience and made Jamie happy to be alive on this late afternoon. 

He was headed for a new assignment in a corner of Burlington County. Because of his extreme familiarity with the area and local inhabitants, Jamie would act as an adjunct and liaison to the now famous and highly esteemed war hero, Commodore Stephen Decatur. Jamie would meet up with the Commodore at the Hanover Iron Works where Decatur would be trying out cannonballs to test them for the proper quality in the new nation's fight with the Barbary Pirates of northern Africa. 

Jamie sped along at a fine clip and both he and the horse adroitly rounded a bend in the trail when out of the underbrush, a fuzzy blurry thing, with lightening speed, crossed their path. The horse pulled up sharply sending Jamie careening off the saddle sideways, tumbling into the road, and crashing into an old sycamore. Broken neck, broken shoulder, broken leg, Jamie succumbed to unconsciousness as he lay in the dirt wrapped around the tree. 

"Oops!" said Jack Leeds as he stood over Jamie. "Gracious, if it ain't good old Jamie Foxcroft. Don't worry, Jack will take care of you." said the Devil to the limp body. He picked Jamie up and carried him off. 

Jamie sucked in a breath with a jerk and there was Jack's hairy face in his. "Aauugh!" cried Jamie. 

"Nay, Master Jamie. Don't take on so. It's only your old friend Jack Leeds." 

Jamie sat straight up. "Sweet Jesus! My horse! My orders! What happened?" 

"Something, er, startled your mount but he's alright and he's fine, right over there. See?" 

"Jack, it's a good thing you were here," said Jamie holding his head. 

"And how about yourself, sir?" asked Jack. " No worse for wear?" 

"No, no. I'm fine. See? Just fine... _fine._ " 

"I would have sworn on a stack of bibles you were dead. When I picked you up, you were all done in and limp like a rag doll, flopping about, this way and that. I know dead when I see it." The Devil spoke to him with a look as sincere and innocent as he was able to portray. Jamie was getting nervous. 

"No, I assure you, sir. I am quite well. A little sore and bruised but, nevertheless, all hale and hearty." 

"As you say, Master Jamie, as you say." 

"I _do_ say. Now, I need to be on my way. I do thank you for your kindness, Master Jack." 

"Need you be in such a bothering hurry, man or whatever you are? It's too dark to make anymore progress. No moon this night, anyhow. Join me for supper." 

Jamie stared with pained alarm. 

No, Master Jamie, I mean I have some fresh fish and cornbread and good ale, if you please. I covet a bit of company." 

The Present - Tuckahoe Inn 

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," I said. "What you're telling me is fiction, right?" 

Fox just stared at me with half a smile on his face. 

"I'm suppose to believe this? Devils flying through the air?" 

"Haven't you ever heard of the Jersey Devil?" Fox asked. 

"That's a freakin' hockey team!" 

"So where do you think the name comes from?" 

"It's all very entertaining, but don't think I'm buying this. I hope I don't appear that stupid." 

"Hoo boy. A little arrogant? I have, in my time, _in my time,_ seen things that would defy anything _you_ can imagine." 

"Okay, point taken, perhaps. Do continue, Mr. Fox." 

"Okay." 

Flashback - The Road to Hanover, 1814 

Jamie conceded to Jack's request. They made pleasant conversation and caught up on what the other had been doing in the intervening years. Jamie found his way back to Toms River after the wreck of the _Revenge_ and lost his house when the British burned down the town the following year in '78. As a result, patriotism for his newborn country exploded. He traveled about the countryside fighting for his country's independence wherever he could. Long after the war ended, he forged some papers and presented himself as a commander in the US Navy, now just recently attaining the rank of captain. He longed to see some action on the high seas, happy to be fighting the British in the War of 1812 but he was not able to secure a commission on a ship. The petty squabbling and rivalries between the command of the Navy made any advancement almost impossible, let alone commanding a vessel. He saw it was only dumb luck and a few intelligent moves on the part of a few statesmen that allowed the Americans to win that war and even then, it was more of a draw. The war had become unpopular with the English people and the British government had more pressing concerns, like the French. 

"Now, I'm on my way to join Commodore Decatur and render assistance as he tests cannonballs. Maybe, they will let me on a boat again instead of keeping me landlocked and tied down to a desk." 

"So do you know this Commodore? Have you met him?" 

"Indeed, I have, sir, briefly. Seems a fine man that meets with his reputation." 

"Even so?" 

"Yes." 

"Then you can do me the favor you so promised me." Jamie waited for the Devil to proceed and hung on to his breath, afraid of what would be asked of him. 

The Devil stood up and turned around and by the light of the campfire, showed poor Jamie his backside. Jamie winced. 

"Do you see that!" Do you see what your fine Commander..." 

"Commodore." 

"Tinker, tailor...whatever! Look at what he's done to me! Firing his infernal cannon balls... at me!" 

"I'll be damned." 

"And he told everyone that he put a hole through me and when they said they couldn't believe that, he said I just kept on flying as though nothing touched me! They laughed at his fancy wanted to see me dead first before they would believe him. All laughing and joking, you know. So, now, the bully means to have my head mounted on his wall. Think of that, sir. Umph! My _head._ " 

"It is, indeed, a problem, Master Jack." 

"You, my good friend, whom Providence has directed, has within your power, the ability to stop him." 

"I will do what I can, Jack but I am, after all, his subordinate. There is a limit." 

The Devil let out a mournful sound. "Alas!" 

"Jack, please, this night, take off. Fly far away where you will not be in range. When he can't find you, he will be forced to give up the chase and all will be forgotten when he sails for the Mediterranean." 

"I can't do that." 

"But why?" 

"Don't ask, sir." 

"I can only do so much." 

"All my happiness rests in your hands and if you don't keep your promise, I will keep mine and I will eat him, too. Starting with his _head._ " 

The hair on the back of Jamie's neck stood up. This was Jack's second reference to heads in an ominously sounding way. There was something else going on here. Jamie could feel it. Long centuries of experience taught him instinctively when to be on his guard. 

"Aw, but Jack, you can't eat a national hero. What happened to your sense of patriotism?" 

"It left with the fur on my behind." 

"I'll do my best, Jack. That is all I can promise you." 

"I'll be counting on you, Master Jamie, the Devil said sadly. 

With those words, the Devil flew into the air and left Jamie to himself in the night. 

The next day, Jamie continued west toward Hanover, another day's ride. When he got there, he found the illustrious Commodore making detailed notes, directing activities, and otherwise, looking in command. When he spied Jamie walking across the field, he held his hand up and waved. "How democratic," thought Jamie. Actually, sensing the arrival of the immortal only gave the Commodore a sharp pain in his head. 

When Jamie came near, he saluted and presented the Commodore with his orders and apologized for being later than expected. Decatur grimaced at the approach of the immortal and rubbed his forehead. Presently, he told Jamie not to worry about his tardiness but to make himself presentable for a social evening this night. Tomorrow, they would meet and the Commodore would need Jamie to iron out some problems with the locals. He couldn't speak their language. 

A gathering of officers and a few prominent natives of Hanover met at the ironmaster's imposing house. There was a bit of music, some excellent food, and a lot of drink. The Commodore stood as the center of attention, especially among the ladies. He had a singularly handsome face, a regal bearing, and the uniform didn't hurt either. His modest disposition was charming as he held everyone in suspense with his tales of daring on the high seas, describing his capture of the British _Macedonian,_ the greatest prize the young country had ever taken. 

Once again, as Jamie entered the house, Decatur stopped in mid sentence to recover from the presence of the other immortal. The hosts, the ironmaster and his wife, found Jamie and made polite conversation. Soon, the Commodore presented his wife's niece to the party. Mary Masden, a giggly young woman of about 20, obviously nervous, did the best she could. Her charms were best described as "uncommon" by her generous uncle but in reality, it was only her very sizable dowry that would attract any attention from the young men. Accompanying her uncle on a pretext that she was on her way to visit a cousin in Red Bank, the family just really wanted to marry her off. She was already well past the desirable age. 

Jamie coolly acknowledged his commanding officer, wanting to appear all spit and polish. He bowed and took the hand of Mary as he was introduced. Decatur saw the man had manners and listed him at the back of his mind as a possibility for Mary. 

The next day, early, Decatur stopped by to pick up Jamie at the worker's cottages where he had been billeted. The informality caught Jamie off guard, never expecting for one second that the Commodore would seek him out. Quickly, Jamie surmised the reason for the visit or thought he did. 

The Commodore walked into Jamie's tiny room and sat down on a chair as Jamie fumbled with his cravat. 

"I'll be plain, Mr. Foxcroft," said the Commodore. "I have a job to do here and I expect to do it without any hindrance. I need to know if you are of a like mind. Too many fellows are about that wouldn't mind seeing me disgraced in some way and out of the picture. Can I count on you for genuine assistance?" 

"Entirely, Commodore. You need not fear my intentions or my sword." 

"Your sword?" 

"Yes, sir. The Game, sir?" 

"Oh, that. No, I don't spend any time bothering with that. I'm not interested." 

"But sir, sometimes circumstances force one to become interested." 

"I've never had a problem with it before." 

"If you don't mind me asking, sir, how long have you been an immortal?" 

"I was wounded in a battle in 1812. A young seaman told me that I had died. Of course, I found that hard to believe but my wound was entirely gone. He also said I would survive any calamity except losing my head." 

"Did he tell you, Commodore, that others like us might come looking for your head." 

"Indeed, he did but I've only encountered two or three such beings since and they seemed to present no harm. I've more reason to fear the vultures from Washington who call themselves politicians and young Navy swains who would do anything to advance." 

"The seaman, sir, did he tell you anything else?" 

"No, we put into port for supplies in the Canaries and he never came back. I assumed he jumped ship, the rascal." 

"It easily could be, Commodore, that he never had the chance to return." 

"You mean he was-" 

"Even so, sir." 

"My God, Mr. Foxcroft," said Decatur softly. 

"Sir, it seems you want for a great deal more instruction. I have much experience in these matters and I am at your service." 

"Excellent, Mr. Foxcroft. I shall take you up on your offer," said Decatur. "In the meantime we have ammunition to test. Several men of the near village came to me yesterday and asked me to desist from firing the cannons." They walked down stairs and out the door. "They said several of their women had come to muster and that the noise was very troublesome to them. I told them I would look into the matter. Whatever the hell did they mean, Mr. Foxcroft?" 

"It means, Commodore, the women were about to give birth." 

"Oh, I see. Well, see what arrangements you can make with them. It is of the utmost importance that we remain in the good graces of the population. In the meantime, I shall go to the furnace and observe. Report back to me at the ironmaster's house this afternoon." 

"Aye, aye, sir." 

Jamie had an excellent morning. He successfully eased the fears of the little community. Two of the expectant mothers had already delivered anyway and a third was due at any moment. This woman already had several children and a little cannon fire was not about to bother her. Still, it was an occasion for careful diplomacy and when happily concluded, a healthy drink to the new mothers was in order and then to the Commodore, then to Jamie, then to the nation, and then finally to the cannonballs. When Jamie left town, he was in no pain. 

Directly, he set about to see Decatur and make his report. Jamie stiffened up and coolly, to the best of his ability, told the Commodore that all was well with community and that they could count upon their support for the good of the nation. The East had been vehemently opposed to the War of 1812 and even though Decatur, who had been thus far extremely successful with the action against the north African states, still did not want any incidents that could perhaps get blown out of proportion. 

Jamie stood ramrod straight though he listed to starboard a little bit. Decatur could not help but see Jamie's predicament and found the whole thing highly amusing. With a pretended scowl, he vigorously questioned Jamie until he could see Jamie start to sweat. Then Decatur got up from his desk and clapped Jamie upon the back with a "Well done." This almost sent Jamie sprawling but he was just able to regain his posture. 

"Tomorrow morning, Mr. Foxcroft, you will accompany me on a little hunting expedition. We have to wait for more gunpowder to be delivered anyway." 

"Hunting, Commodore?" 

"Yes, there is a beast hereabouts that I should very like to take as a trophy. Thought I got him dead center with the cannon last time I saw him." 

"This would have to be an enormous beast if you need a cannon, sir. I know of no such animal in these parts," Jamie said uneasily. "We have no elephants in New Jersey," he said with a nervous laugh. 

"Even so, Mr. Foxcroft." Decatur took the familiar gesture of putting an arm around Jamie's shoulder as he pointed out the scene of how this creature wafted complacently across the target range. Decatur took aim and fired at the beast and placed a gaping hole through the creature, yet the creature paid no mind and kept going as though nothing had occurred. 

"So Mr. Foxcroft, are you up for a bit of adventure? I would love to get this one." 

"Aye, sir. Of course, sir," Jamie said dryly. He was hardly in a position to protest and hoped that Jack had taken his advice and gone south, Cape May maybe or maybe to the South Pole. 

"And tomorrow, you can tell me about this immortal business. Mr. Foxcroft, what do you think of my niece?" 

Jamie was caught completely off guard by this question. 

"Oh, uh, a fine young woman, I'm sure, sir." 

"She is that, Mr. Foxcroft, she is that. Do you ever think on your future?" 

"All the time, sir." 

"Do you ever think on marriage? You're not married, are you, Mr. Foxcroft?" 

"Not for many centuries, sir. I rather gave it up." 

Decatur blinked with surprise. He was not used to thinking in terms of centuries. 

"A man needs a woman in his life. Someone to come home to after a long voyage." 

"Oh, I am with a woman every now and again, sir," Jamie said without trying to sound flippant. 

"Now, sir, is that anyway to live? You think on Miss Mary, won't you?" 

"But..." 

"Think," Decatur said emphatically, " _think_ on it. A very generous dowry, also. Maybe a commission, a ship perhaps? You're dismissed. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, Mr. Foxcroft." 

"Yes, sir. Good evening, sir." 

Jamie had since sobered up, especially after Decatur talked about marriage. That was enough to put starch in one's breeches. How could he suggest such a thing? Jamie thought he was just unreasonably desperate to marry the woman off. He walked down the path past the kitchen garden intending to see to his horse when he saw Miss Mary in conversation with someone just hidden beyond the shrubbery. He paused just a second to look at the girl, thinking that his first impression of her was a little hard. Unfortunately, the girl laughed loudly and ungainly in a way that reminded him of a donkey. His first impression did not improve on second sight. If anything, it took a downward turn. 

"How the devil do I find myself in these predicaments?" Jamie wondered. It looked, however, as if there was someone courting Miss Mary's attention and she laughed again in a way that made Jamie shiver. "Good luck to them both," he thought. At that very moment, Miss Mary stepped sideways and Jamie could see her suitor. 

Jamie stood there in silent horror and felt as though a cannonball had gone through him. Jack Leeds bowed deeply before Miss Mary, took her hand and kissed it. Mary made a pretty curtsy and skipped off giggling all the way. Jack then spied Jamie frozen to the spot. 

"Jamie, Jamie, my boy, is she not a pearl, a rare flower? I am entirely undone!" 

Jamie could utter nothing intelligible but only a wheeze and a few guttural sounds. 

Finally, he choked out, "Have you lost your mind? Do you know who she is?" 

"Yes, of course. That's Miss Mary Masden, up from Baltimore." 

"Do you know, then, who her uncle is?" 

Jack pretended to be ignorant. "Her uncle? Ah..." 

"The Commodore! The very fellow I'm suppose to go hunting with-tomorrow! Hunting for you!" 

"Would you do that, then, to your good friend to whom you owe a great favor? Hmmm?" 

"Jack, what choice do I have? Was I supposed to tell him of our association? Beside, I told you to leave for your own good." Jamie was till on the verge of sheer blather. 

"And I told you, sir, that I couldn't." 

"Why, in the name of heaven?" 

"I have a job to do." 

"A job? What, scaring cows into drying up?" 

"Oh, that was a low one, Master Jamie and very unbecoming to yourself, sir." 

"Look, I'm sorry, Jack. You've got to understand I'm in a very tight spot here. I have to be a diplomat, a teacher, swab, and now, Sweet Jesus, now Decatur is trying to marry me off to the... girl. I can't do that, not that!" 

"And what would be so bad about being husband to that dear thing? 

"I've been married before. That was enough." 

"How long ago?" teased Jack. 

"A long time ago." 

"How long?" 

"Long!" 

"Long, you say?" 

"Yes, damn it. And it's none of your business!" 

"Well, it's high time you were married again." 

"What?" 

"It would be perfect. She would be perfect. You're a good man, Master Jamie. I can't marry her and at least, this way; I just might get to see her from time to time. I'm a lonely creature, living out in these pinewoods for the most part. You can't carry on much of a conversation with a chipmunk." 

Jamie held his head with his hands, not believing the course of events, not believing he's arguing with this unearthly being about marriage. Suddenly, he looked up at Jack noting for the first time that Jack was wearing breeches, a shirt, and a coat. He looked an odd sight. 

"How is it that she was not afraid of you, sir?" asked Jamie. 

"She's no wilting violet, I can tell you. She's got the heart of a bear and smart as paint. If you had twenty of her kind on one of your ships, you could make fast work of those Barbary Pirates" 

"Even so," mumbled Jamie as he turned to walk away, talking to himself as he went. He suddenly turned, facing Jack. 

"You had better be away from here tomorrow. I don't know if I can protect you," yelled Jamie with a raised hand. 

Jack responded, "I can't do that. And besides, you'd better think seriously about keeping your end of our bargain." 

"So what do you mean by that?" 

"Marrying that girl will keep you and your Commodore from being eaten, head first!" 

Jamie's eyes widened. He turned and quickly walked away eventually running to the stable. He mounted and raced into town where he found some refuge at the tavern. 

Inside, the room was warm and secure feeling. He acknowledged the few people he had already met and became acquainted with a few more. He ordered his evening meal and sat down in a corner by himself to eat. Soon the candles were lit and he regretted having to return to his lodgings in the dark alone. 

Just as Jamie was finishing, the room became quiet as a new face entered. Jamie immediately knew another immortal appeared. A mature looking man of about 48 inquired of the innkeeper who then stretched his arm to point out Jamie. 

At that moment, Jamie would have preferred to have just disappeared into thin air but he was stuck. As the man approached, Jamie could feel the blood rush to his face as he recognized the gentleman. The man's brass buttons on his very fashionable suit glimmered in the yellow light. His spurs jingled with each firm and deliberate step. He held a hand on the pommel of his sabre as he approached Jamie. 

"Excuse me for interrupting your dinner, sir, but where might I find Commodore Decatur?" asked the gentleman. 

Jamie cleared his throat, almost choking in the process as he finished his chewing. He wiped his mouth hastily. Obviously, the man did not recognize him. Jamie stood pushing the chair back as it scraped the floor loudly. He extended his hand. 

"I have the honor of addressing...?" 

"I am Captain James Barron, at your service, sir." 

Jamie hesitated. "Er, uh, uh. Captain James Foxcroft." Jamie wasn't sure if the name would be familiar to the man since he had last saw him. "Sit down, if you please, sir." 

"Thank you. A long and lonely ride to these parts. Now, sir, I see I have almost reached the end of my journey. I need to talk with the Commodore on some private matters." 

"The Commodore takes lodgings at the ironmaster's house about a mile from here. He has plans for tomorrow. I am his liaison officer and if I might inquire about what business you have with the Commodore, I might be able expedite matters for you." 

"No, Captain, you need not trouble yourself. This is strictly between the Commodore and myself," Barron said with little laugh. 

"Sir, I need to know if your intentions are for good or ill." 

"Captain, I assure you that they are honorable. Nothing more or nothing less." 

"Nevertheless, sir, it sounds like serious business." 

Jamie's nerves were wearing thin. The day started so simply and now this evening, he was in the middle of dilemma. "Honorable intentions" sounded like a fight to him. He sized Barron up. The man hadn't changed in more than a hundred and fifty years though his manners seemed to have improved a great deal. He remembered a cruel man who liked to take advantage of his position and see others suffer. He conducted himself with false piety while he filled his own coffers. Jamie still could fear him for the helplessness he felt previously in Barron's presence was still clear and sharp. 

Flashback - County Kerry, Ireland 1650 

Oliver Cromwell has decimated the population of Ireland by two-thirds, first through butchery then with the help of famine and plague. All within a period of 8 months. More than sixty thousand were also sold into slavery. Later on, his son came to finish up the carnage. A few bands still held out, harassing the army 

After a time, the reckless attacks, daring though they may have been, finally got Jamie into deep trouble and he was captured. He would have been immediately hanged were it not for the intercession of Jeremiah Barron, a sort of self styled Roundhead cleric. 

Barron first saw Jamie though the bars of an open prison wagon in the cold pouring rain, a loathsome kern. He appeared to be the essence of everything Barron hated in these people. Jamie had a wild and dangerous look about him, dressed only in a pair of trews with a large brat thrown around his shoulders. Jamie stared at him defiantly. However, Barron's face fairly glowed with the anticipation of a quickening and the man actually licked his lips. Jamie saw Barron running in and out of the camp, here and there, a man full of self- importance as if he must have been of some use to somebody. Barron insisted to his superiors that he could try to convert the Fox before his death and wanted some 'time' with him before they hanged him. Just to annoy Barron, Jamie insisted that he needed no converting as he was not a Catholic but a pagan and Barron said from his point of view, there was little difference. Jamie refused to give Barron even the faintest hint of satisfaction. He pretended to know no English and spoke to Barron only in Irish which forced Barron to try a tongue so alien to him that he knew he must have sounded like an imbecile. However, Barron's plans backfired and Jamie was taken to London and shackled in a dim hole for two years. When they finally brought him out, there was Barron waiting at the foot of the gallows, smiling. 

Hanover - 

"Well, Captain," said Jamie wanting to conclude the meeting, "I shall convey your desire to the Commodore this evening and then you can make arrangements to speak with him." 

"Thank you, sir. Most kind. Might I take lodgings here?" 

"You can, I think. There is the innkeeper." 

Barron said good evening to Jamie and walked away. Jamie finished up his meal quickly. He needed to get back to Decatur to warn him. He didn't know what Barron wanted but whatever it was, it couldn't be good. He stood waiting for the innkeeper to settle his bill near the door. Just then, Barron passed by as Jamie caught a glimpse of him over his shoulder. " _Amadan,_ " said Jamie under his breath, Irish for "fool". The word was loud enough so as to catch Barron's ear. 

"Now," said Barron, "I know who you are! Couldn't quite place you before, Seamas an Sionnach. With that remark, Barron landed a powerful right cross on Jamie's jaw, knocking him over and half out the door. Jamie stood up shakily with the help of a couple of patrons and gestured to them that they need not bother coming to his defense. He held the back of his hand to his mouth and turned to walk away. 

"Captain Foxcroft, I should further teach you a better lesson. Stand, sir!" 

"I have no time for fools as I said." 

"I challenge you to a duel, sir." 

"I decline the honor." 

"Like the running coward you were and still are, sir, now known as such to this community." 

"I would not engage in anything so stupid, sir. However, we might settle this in the other way, another time!" 

Jamie walked to his horse and disappeared into the night. He was a short distance away from the tavern as he urged his mount into a canter under a bright full moon. Getting to Decatur seemed urgent. Once again Jack Leeds put in an appearance and the horse reared up throwing Jamie off. Jamie spared no words cursing Jack as he picked himself up. 

"Get out of my way, damn you, foul thing! Damn you, damn you!" 

Jack disappeared from sight as Jamie tried to calm the horse. He suddenly turned, sensing the presence of Barron. Jamie drew his sword, the sturdy cutlass given to him by Jack and faced him. 

"Come to me, you Irish dog. I want to hear you yelp," said Barron derisively. 

"You're not Cromwell's little trained monkey anymore. You don't have his whole bloody army standing at your back." 

"I don't need it and never did to deal with the likes of you and your kind. Never had sense enough to know when you've been beaten. How many years did you spend in that prison? I'll never forget the way you struggled when they hanged you. You put on quite a show. Pity I couldn't get to you before somebody else did." 

"I'm waiting for you now. Draw your sword." 

Barron reached into his coat and pulled out a pistol that he quickly discharged straight into Jamie's chest. Jamie had but a few seconds to grasp the event as he fell to the ground. He struggled to lift himself but Barron walked over calmly and with his boot, pushed Jamie back down. 

"Never enough sense to know when you've been beaten. Time to make your peace, Seamas." 

Jamie heard the sound of the sword coming out of its sheath. Barron held his foot down on Jamie's head and raised his blade high. Jamie let out a sorrowful moan and died. 

"Quite the brave fellow, aren't we now?" Jack seemed to appear right in front of Barron. Barron couldn't believe what he saw when he beheld the hideous form and stepped back and then back again. 

"What in the name of God?" 

"Name of God?" said Jack angrily. "Name of God? And what would the likes of such a scurvy and unholy fellow like you be doing with the name of God on your lips, sir?" 

"The Lord is my shepherd..." Barron swung his blade and cleanly lopped off Jack's head which directly fell at his feet. Jack bent down, picked his head up, and placed it squarely upon his shoulders. 

"Oh, sir,- you should have not done that," said Jack smiling wickedly. 

"Oh, dear...oh" Barron shook in his boots. 

"BOO!" 

Barron screamed for life and ran as fast as he could with Jack flying behind him badgering him all the way. Jamie came back to life with a violent start, ready to continue the fight but was now alone in front of his lodgings. He got up off the ground and wheezed a bit. He found his horse stabled and bedded down for the night and assumed that it must have been Decatur who interceded. He stumbled into the building and fell into bed with out undressing, thinking that the Commodore had taken care of the problem. 

Next morning, a sharp rapping on the door woke Jamie up out of deep sleep. The Commodore came in without waiting for Jamie to open the door. The Captain hopped up immediately and saluted. 

"Aye, aye, sir." 

"As you were, Mr. Foxcroft." 

Jamie looked down at the bed but decided not to take Decatur literally. "Yes, sir." 

"Mr. Foxcroft, I believe I said we were to be out early. Did I not?" 

"Even so, sir. Sorry, sir." 

"You look like you have been drinking." 

Jamie's appearance could easily match the Commodore's description. He was still fully dressed in his uniform, rumpled, dirty, and unshaven. 

"What have you got to say for yourself, man?" 

Jamie only moved his coat back to reveal the large blood stain upon his vest and shirt. The sight caught Decatur by surprise. 

"Dear God, Mr. Foxcroft. Here, sit yourself down," said the Commodore as he rushed over to help Jamie. 

"I assure you, sir, I am fine. I am sorry to be up late this morning but I had a rather rough evening, all in all. 

"I can see that. What happened?" 

Jamie told Decatur of the night's events, which Decatur listened to solemnly. 

"So, it was not you, Commodore, who brought me back here?" 

"Why, no." 

"Oh." Jamie knew now it had to be Jack and also highly pleased that he was not an evening snack but now, Jack must have certainly guessed at Jamie's immortal disposition. 

"This Captain Barron, sir," Jamie went on, "I can't help but think that he means you harm." 

Decatur revealed to Jamie how he had been on the Navy Board of Commissioners when Barron was court martialed for neglecting to prepare his ship for battle in 1812 and thereby losing her. Barron was suspended from duty for five years and never regained his position. Decatur voted against him and Barron never forgot. 

"He wants me to fight him in a duel, Mr. Foxcroft. I shall not back away from that." 

"But, Commodore, you need to avoid duels at any cost. You can't die in front of a crowd. You would have to disappear for a generation or more. You're famous and people will remember you for a long time to come." 

"But my honor, sir. What would you have me do?" 

"If I might paraphrase Mr. Shakespeare, sir, honor hath little merit." 

Decatur heaved a sigh. It was not in him to walk away from such profound matters and had been part of a number of duels. He hadn't been immortal long enough to know how to deal with the practical side of living for centuries as Jamie did. For Jamie, honor was a noble luxury, a nice idea only if and when he had the choice. It didn't fill your belly or keep you warm at night and could certainly turn you into a lonely soul if carried far enough. 

Jamie smiled weakly at the Commodore. Within a half an hour they were mounted on horseback, traversing the lonely trails that snaked around Hanover. There was no sign of the Leeds' Devil though Jamie was still on edge not knowing if he would suddenly appear or James Barron for that matter. No, Jack was back near the ironmaster's house enjoying the spring weather with Miss Masden as his companion, blissfully unaware of Jamie's agitation. Barron spent the day out of sight pondering his next move and nursing the sound thumping Jack had given him. 

Jamie did take the opportunity to try to cover as much as possible the rules of immortality for the Commodore during a rest. They found a sunny sheltered tuft of pine needles to sit on near a small branch of the river. Violets were just beginning to show in the damp shadows. Jamie had acquired a deep love of these woods and felt entirely at home and safe here. The two men pitched rocks into the water. 

Jamie took his time. He had a degree of difficulty trying to explain it all as he, even after four millennia, did not understand it himself. He only knew how things were. He could see that Decatur would not accept what had happened to him very easily. That would only come with time and experience were he lucky enough to live. Decatur, in fact, seemed to be distracted at times as if he didn't want to hear. 

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?" asked Decatur absentmindedly. 

"A little younger than the Great Pyramid, a little older than writing in Europe." Jamie enjoyed being poetic upon occasion. 

" Truly? So much, so much..." Decatur was speechless. "I perceive a small problem. How do I now go about treating you with your lesser rank?" 

"Same as before, sir." 

"It really is a game." 

"An immense game, one I'd oft not play, Stephen." 

Decatur smiled at the sudden familiarity but now he was beginning to see Jamie as his mentor. "I feel as though I should call you 'Father' or 'Abbot' or something more appropriate." 

"Not at all. I am student yet and still have much to learn." 

"I note your wisdom and hope to make use of it, Captain." 

"Please, Stephen, avoid dueling at any cost. It is a stupid custom and as I understand, nowhere else in the world do people engage in it as Americans are wont to do. Not even the French! It will be your undoing, so help me." 

"Very well, James. Perhaps you are right," said Decatur, if only to appease the Captain for the time being. 

"Now, sir," said Jamie, " what do you think? Shall we return? There is no sign of any strange creatures about and other than Captain Barron, I'd want more to run into your phantom than him any day." 

The morning was still young when they returned. The Commodore informed Jamie that there was to be another social gathering that evening. Jamie saw that the horses were put away as the Commodore went on ahead. Jamie remained chatting with one of the men at the stable and after a time strolled toward the main house only to enter into a fray. 

Decatur walked toward the rear of the house and his attention was caught by the sound of his niece laughing, something which he could hardly fail to miss. Soon he saw she was talking to someone just beyond the hedge. He hid himself off to the side, out of their sight until Mary and her companion sauntered by him. Decatur saw the pair from behind as they went past. 

Jack was escorting Miss Mary by the hand. Decatur let out an unimaginable sound and within two seconds of regaining his wits, lunged toward the beast. Jack gasped, unable to move, wings shaking uncontrollably. Mary stuck out her foot, tripping her uncle into the dusty road. 

"Go! Go!" she yelled. Jack took the hint and quickly though gracelessly flapped away, barely missing a tree. 

"What in the name of Great Jehovah was that?!!" said Decatur barely able to pick himself up. "It was that thing I shot at, wasn't it? What have you been doing with that creature! What am I going to tell your mother! Your mother, oh dear God!" 

"Uncle Stephen, please, calm down! You don't have to worry. I've only been keeping gentle conversation with a poor unfortunate soul." 

"Soul, indeed!" Can it have one?" 

"It's not his fault he is the way he is. He was cursed by his mother. Oh. Uncle Stephen, if you could only get to know him." 

"Are you listening to yourself, girl? Mary, this is beyond all reason! I can't believe my very eyes!" 

Jamie had witnessed most of the commotion and was about to turn on his heel when Decatur spotted him. 

"Foxcroft, come here!" 

"Me, sir?" 

"Foxcroft!" 

"Aye, sir." 

"Mr. Foxcroft, I'll would be willing to bet a year's wages that you, sir, could enlighten me with some little detail." 

Jamie cleared his throat. "That was Jack Leeds." 

Decatur looked at him incredulously and said nothing for several seconds, struggling to keep his composure, trying to take in the fact that now that thing had a name. He shuffled the sand around with his boots pondering. 

"Even so, Mr. Foxcroft?" he said softly as he controlled his agitation. 

"Aye, sir." 

"So, go on. Did you know that Miss Mary was keeping company with this thing?" 

"Uncle, he is not a thing!" 

"Pardon, me. Mr. Leeds." 

"Well, sir, it seems that I did happen to see them speaking on one occasion and I advised Mr. Leeds that he should leave the area at once, sir." 

"You _advised_ him?" 

"Aye, sir. You can't exactly just shoo him away or threaten him for that matter. And besides, I owe him my life two, three times over." 

"This is just getting better and better, Mr. Foxcroft. You appear to have quite an association with Mr. Leeds." 

"I do owe him, sir, and he's not one to forget. He expects a favor in kind or else." 

"Or else what?" 

"Well, Commodore, it's a matter too delicate for Miss Mary's ears, I'm afraid." 

"Poppycock!" said Mary. "Spit it out." 

Jamie looked at Decatur uncomfortably. 

"Like Miss Mary said, Mr. Foxcroft. Spit it out." 

"He said he would eat the pair of us, you and I, sir, starting with our... heads" 

"Mary, go into the house!" 

"Uncle!" 

"Go, I say!" 

"Aauughh!" 

Mary stamped up the back stairs and was presently out of sight. Decatur regrouped. 

"James, so has he asked for a favor?" 

"Indeed, he has, sir." 

"You don't have to be so formal just between the two of us." 

"Oh, but sir," said Jamie nervously. 

"So what does he want?" 

Jamie took a deep breath and swallowed. "He wants me to marry Miss Mary." 

Decatur practically burst in half smiling. "Why! That's wonderful. Congratulations!" 

"But Commodore! Think! What kind of a life would she have? I would be away at sea all the time and then I would not be able to give her any children. Immortals... we can't have children. What would there be in her life to make up for it?" 

The thought caught Decatur and hit him hard. He must not have been paying close attention and thought that part did not apply to him when Jamie talked of it. His smile dropped. 

"My Susan. My dear Susan." Decatur was a thousand miles away. 

"Now you know," said Jamie quietly. "And more you will learn." 

Decatur took out a locket and opened it. "I'll see you later, James." He walked up the back stairs and into the house shutting the door behind him, leaving Jamie alone. 

Once more the ironmaster's house glistened with candles. Several dignitaries from Washington arrived and gave the small town an air of importance. Miss Mary played the pianoforte with a reasonable degree of confidence, though she did not sing which was just as well. Conversation ran pleasantly for the better part of the evening. Jamie looked agreeably handsome in his dress uniform, glistening with carefully stitched leaves and festoons but once again, the Commodore's presence commanded the room. There were several suggestions about him running for public office, the absolute highest achievement a man could aspire to at that time. The Commodore with his usual modesty, fended off the notion which made his many admirers all the more enthusiastic. 

Jamie found himself out at the back of the house for some air. The late March evening felt unusually warm as the sun melted into the forest beyond. Suddenly, he was not alone though it was not the presence of any immortal. Miss Mary appeared and nervously laughed as she unconsciously played with her handkerchief. She was dressed in a buff colored velvet gown with a hint of gold embroidery around the neckline and cuffs. A pair of white ostrich plumes decorated her coif. She wore a small and unusual bracelet of silver with a charm attached to it. Jamie courteously addressed the woman and politely admired her appearance. She returned the compliment but then an awkward silence fell between them. 

"Are you looking for Jack?" Jamie said finally. Mary gave him an uncertain nod. 

"I thought he might be about," she said. 

"I never know where he might turn up. It's always a surprise," Jamie said. 

"You think my friendship with Mr. Leeds strange, Captain?" 

"Honestly, no, no more than mine. I find myself quite unable to guess why I like him though he threatens to eat me," Jamie laughed. 

"Oh, but he speaks highly of you, sir. He says you have many fine qualities" 

Mary cleared her throat. "It has been brought to my attention that a suggestion has been made as to the possible marriage between the two of us, sir." 

Jamie was absolutely stunned that Miss Mary would venture to bring this particular subject up. 

"Why, Miss," he said shakily, "who has said this?" 

"Our mutual friend, Mr. Leeds, had talked of it and also my uncle made a rather direct comment of the situation." 

"Ah, Mr. Leeds is a person, and I use that term loosely, is a person who has set his own course. And as for your uncle, Miss, well..." 

"Captain Foxcroft, I know why I was set on this journey. I am certainly not an ignorant child. And I must put a stop if you should entertain any ideas of marriage, commission or no. Begging your pardon, Captain, but I should find a match between us unacceptable. It's true that you seem a nice enough fellow but I do not want to marry you or any sailor for that matter." 

Sailor?! Jamie was irked that she thought of him as a common sailor and not good enough. He had been turned down before he could ask. 

"With Mr. Leeds," Mary continued, "I don't have to pretend I'm somebody else. I know I can't actually marry him and when he did bring up you as a possibility, I did think on it but I just can't. You are not my type. Please don't take it personally, Captain. And if I find somebody in Red Bank, well and good, but if I don't, then I shall waste no tears or time in regret. Life is too short to spend in regretting, is it not, Captain?" 

"Indeed, Miss Mary," Jamie said still annoyed. 

"Now, I hope I haven't disappointed you too much. There will be other ships; I know it." 

"Truly, that was not my first consideration." 

Jamie excused himself and reentered the house and made his way to the front room. Ten minutes had gone by when, suddenly, there was a flurry of activity, loud noise. Captain Barron walked in with some sort of henchman he had found in the woods at his side. He strode up to the Commodore. Within an instant, Jamie placed himself between them though it took considerable courage for him to do so. 

"Commodore, I came to speak with you, not this mongrel here." 

"Your efforts are noted, but, Captain Foxcroft, you may step aside," said Decatur. "Captain Barron, let us go outside where we will not disturb the festivities." 

Barron leaned into Jamie's face. "This is between _gentlemen._ " 

The two men shortly returned. With a flourish and grand gestures, Barron announced that Commodore Decatur had accepted his challenge to a duel tomorrow afternoon. 

"I will have satisfaction, Commodore." Then Barron turned with a grand gesture, pointing to Jamie, and announced, "This man has been seen consorting with the devil!" 

Jamie became alarmed but then the ironmaster stepped up. 

"Could only have been old Jack Leeds. There's hardly a soul abroad in these parts, man, woman, or beast, that hasn't run into him one time or another." 

The room filled with laughter and Barron made a quick exit, knowing in his heart he was only dealing with heathen and worthless peasants once again. 

The crowd in the room gathered around Decatur and gave him three huzzahs in advance of his victory. Decatur was in a state of perplexed anxiety but thanked the crowd. Jamie was furious. 

Quietly on the side, Decatur said to Jamie between shaking hands, "I know what you're thinking but that I am some great fool but look you." Decatur held Mary's bracelet in his hand. 

The sight made Jamie sick. "I have no choice," said Decatur. 

"We must leave and follow him," said Jamie, "before he gets too far." Decatur grabbed Jamie by the coat. 

"We can't, James, she is gone in another direction. He had help. If we speak of this, she is dead. He also says that there is a spy in among the guests here and that if I announce the incident, it is all up." 

The Commodore made excuses to leave the party. He accompanied Jamie outside where they could converse freely. 

"Why, what reason does he have to pursue you so, Stephen, in this manner? Why doesn't he just go for your head?" 

"The man thinks he will have a better victory if I die in public. I am therefore finished. I will have no more position, fame, or wealth for that matter. Good bye Commodore. James, he says I must die tomorrow. Then he says, after a time, he will come for my head but only after I have savored the loss of everything I hold dear. Have you ever known anyone more cruel, James?" 

"His plan is effective and oft proven. And yes, I have known others even more ruthless. Captain Barron just adds to his depravity because he so sure of his natural superiority." 

"The man is despicable." 

"You have no idea, Stephen. But come, we must to do something!" 

"NO, I can't risk Mary's life! I'll just have to take my chances with Barron tomorrow." 

"You have no chance and neither does she, don't you understand?" "Very well, you know the area. See what you can do. Do you think there is anyone you can trust?" 

"I believe I do." 

"Good. Seek them out. I think it would be best if I remained here for the time being." 

Mary's hands were tied tightly in front of her as the little man with the pistol roughly pulled her off a horse and over to a root cellar of a nearby abandoned farm. The man opened one of the doors and told her to step down. 

"I'm not getting in there. There might be a rattlesnake hiding within those leaves!" 

The man grumbled. "All right, but don't you be trying anything, missy." He stepped down into the cellar and poked around with a stick by the light of his lantern. Mary stood at the top. 

"There, all clear. In you go." The man trudged up toward the top. Mary bent over a bit to lift her skirt but instead- 

WHAM. She kicked the man squarely in the face, knocking him down into the cellar. 

"Oh, hell." She could hear him mumble at the bottom as she bolted the doors shut. She turned quickly around to find the horse but was startled to see Jack Leeds leaning against a tree with his arms crossed in the dim light. 

"What, you can't help a lady in distress?" 

"I'd say it was Denby Clayton down there who is in distress," Jack smiled. She held out her hands for him to untie her. 

"You know that disgusting person, do you?" 

"I know everyone around here. Denby is usually nearer the beach where he waits for anything the tide brings up. He loves a good wreck and will steal from a corpse or a survivor. He says flotsom is flotsom, breathing or not." 

"To think he had his hands on me! Ugh!" 

"He did not sully your virtue, Miss Mary?" 

"Of course not!" 

"I am so relieved to hear that." 

"I must get back to Uncle Stephen. He must be worried to death by now." 

"Without a moment to lose." 

"And I do fear for Captain Foxcroft very much. He and Barron have quite a history, don't you know." 

"Yes, I am well aware of it. But we should not _interfere,_ Miss Mary." 

"You are a fine one to talk of interfering but I think it is already too late for that. We are quite involved. You know we will have to lie in the report." 

"Lie? Who do you think you're talking to?" 

"Ah, yes, of course," Mary giggled. 

"Honestly, Miss Mary, I don't know who is more wicked, me or you." 

"Within these past three years since you have been a Watcher, have you not seen anything more delicious than what my uncle and Captain Fox have been up against?" 

" My life has been very different and entertaining, Miss." "Shall we go?" said Mary as walked over to one of the horses. 

"We won't be needing them." 

"Oh?" 

Jamie moved around the countryside by the light of a full moon. He paused occasionally to call out Jack's name but with no luck. He couldn't imagine what he would do next. There were a hundred places Barron could have hid Miss Mary and Jamie didn't know the area as well as he wished. 

"Jack?" He rode on. "Jaaack." 

No sign. Not a demon in sight, nothing but an old hooty owl. The air was turning cold. It was still only March. Finally, he decided that his search was in vain. He remembered that his last words to Jack were to cuss him out. 

One more time, "Jack, Miss Mary's in danger! She needs your help! JACK!" 

Nothing but barking dogs. "DAMN!" 

Jamie turned his horse and returned to the ironmaster's house. The guests had all left by now. There was Decatur pacing in front along the road. 

"No luck, Commodore. I'm sorry." 

"James, come here to the light." The commodore took Mary's bracelet out and showed Jamie once again near the lantern post. "Here, take a look." 

"Miss Mary's bracelet, sir." 

"Look at the charm. What were you telling me about that secret society? The symbol?" 

Jamie's eyes popped and his jaw dropped. "I'll be damned!" He began to rattle off some words which the Commodore had thought might have been Greek but then, perhaps not. 

"So what?" asked Decatur, perplexed. 

"What?!" said Jamie, entirely forgetting rank. "I'll tell you what. It means she might very well be a Watcher-or,or-" 

"And so-" 

"Do you remember," Jamie asked angrily, "what I told you about this society? How they observe us? How they note us when nature calls? Personally I would not have posterity knowing everything!" 

"They can get that personal?" 

"Indeed, and even more so." 

"Dear me, oh." 

"More than that, Stephen, they watch us die and do nothing. They sometimes watch those we love suffer and die and still they do nothing!" 

Flashback - Santiago de Compostella - Spain, 1535 

Jamie had made a long journey through Spain. Along the way, he found a small orphan boy who he could not bring himself to abandon back to the streets. He was to meet an acquaintance at the great cathedral, a priest, who had piously made the pilgrimage to the holy shrine. It was to be a joyous occasion. 

He and the boy waited patiently for the priest to show but after a while, they moved about the city to find lodgings and food. Suddenly, there was a commotion in the narrow street and both Jamie and the boy were swept away within the mob. Soldiers rounded up the group and secured the adults in the prison while the child was left at the gate. 

Jamie spied the priest through the bars near the courtyard and screamed to him to find the child but the priest only stared. He was too frightened to be connected with anyone who had been picked up by the King's Guard yet he needed to stay and observe. He pretended not to know Jamie. 

Jamie looked English and spoke bad Spanish with an accent. That was enough. They accused him of being a heretic. They wanted to torture him to get him to admit to being a heretic first but that was not necessary. They seemed to be in a hurry. Then they put him on trial, in a private room, also quickly resolved. Afterwards, he saw the priest in the crowd but the man did nothing nor said nothing. 

Finally, after two days, the priest came to visit Jamie in a dank cell. 

"Padre," pleaded Jamie, "help me. I need to find Juan. He is all by himself. Tell them I am not their enemy. I am no heretic." 

"I am here to offer you absolution and nothing more." 

"How can you do this?" 

"I can not _interfere._ " 

"Oh?" 

That word! A wave of recognition and then horror swept over Jamie's body and it slowly brought him to his knees as he clung to the bars. Anger dissolved into surrender. Jamie long knew of the Watcher's existence, even from ancient times. He knew how things worked but it was the first time it had made a difference to him. 

"I understand." He didn't need to look for the tattoo as at that it had become dangerous to wear any symbol that was not sanctioned by the Church. The priest blessed him and then left. 

They tortured Jamie anyway. He died screaming in agony upon the rack but that saved him from the stake. Later on, he roamed the streets in beggar's clothing in a state of near madness, looking for the little boy only to find out that the child stayed near the gate, crying for two days, until the he disappeared. Some had said that a woman had taken the child in but another thought someone else had cut the child's throat for the noise he made. Jamie never found out the truth and it made him crazy with uncertainty. He couldn't bear the thought of a child abandoned, a feeling that his own soul knew too well. Finally, he caught up with the priest. 

"Can you imagine how scared he was, how frightened, hungry? Watcher, you make me sick," said Jamie coolly as he closed in. 

"Diego, por favor. Dios mio. Mercy. You're not in your right mind." 

Jamie strangled the man with his bare hands and then disappeared from Spain. 

Hanover - 

"I can understand your agitation, James. This does not sound like a comfortable way to live even in the best of circumstances," said Decatur. 

"We need to stall for more time, Stephen. Perhaps we-" Jamie's eye was caught by the bizarre sight of Jack holding Mary tightly as they flew across the open field beyond the garden at the rear of the house before they disappeared behind it. Mary's unmistakable laughter rang out as they softly landed. Total giddiness consumed Mary. Decatur and Jamie ran around to the back but stopped short to see Mary squeeze Jack in her arms. She caressed Jack's face with her hand and told him she had never had so much fun. A moment later she was gone and in the house. Jack's eyes fairly filled to the brim with tears for the experience was deeply bitter sweet. Lost in thought, he didn't see Jamie and Decatur approach in the bright moonlight and he plowed right into them as he was trying to take a flying leap into the air. 

"Ow, stand to, sir, explain yourself!" demanded Decatur struggling to right himself. The crash almost knocked Jamie out and bloodied his nose. 

"My apologies! But I have just rescued your niece, sir, some miles from here. One would think it a gracious gesture." 

"I am eternally grateful, Mr. Leeds, but this bit of frippery just now. Looks to me like you are toying with her innocent feelings. She is a capricious thing and willingly gives affection." 

Both Jack and Decatur unconsciously reached down and pulled Jamie up to a standing position. 

Jack's wings were ruffled by the comment. Drawing himself up to his full height where he suddenly towered over the both of them, he said, "Commodore, she trifles with mine." 

"How dare you, sir. She is but a child." 

"She is a woman if you would but open your eyes and needs to be treated like one." 

"Now wait a minute, Jack," said Jamie who had almost recovered his bearings. 

"You can't sell her off like so much extra produce at a fruit market. This is the 19th century, a new age," continued Jack. 

"Jack-I don't think it's a good idea-" 

The Devil now turned his attention upon Jamie. "I believe Miss Mary said to me quite plainly that she did not want _you,_ Master Jamie." He punctuated _you_ with an emphatic poke in Jamie's shoulder. 

"Oh, and of course _you_ can offer her a future?" asked Jamie now feeling incensed. 

"All things considered, just as much as you can." Jack poked him again and then again. 

"I've grown tired of your asides, Master Jack. Speak plainly." 

"You really would not have it so." 

"Indeed, I would!" Jamie lunged at Jack catching him off balance and tackled him to the ground. They rolled in the dirt but a second before Jack, with his enormous strength easily subdued Jamie, nailing him to the ground as Jamie thrashed about. Soon Jamie realized the futile battle was over and he lay trying to catch his breath. At that moment he saw the Watcher tattoo marking Jack's wrist and he froze. Jack smiled broadly. He realized what Jamie now knew, revealed his ominous teeth, as he lifted Jamie by the throat, off the ground, and drew him close to his face. Jamie had thought he had known all manner of fear but now he reached a new level. He felt the blood leave his head and darkness begin to close in around his field of vision. He hung on dangling. 

"I've have kept my promise to you," Jamie said just above a whisper. "Decatur hunts you no longer. Mary would not have me for her stable boy." Jack angrily shook him and growled. "I have kept my promise," Jamie barely said. 

Jack let Jamie fall to the ground with a thud. Decatur had backed away without realizing he had drawn his sabre and was holding it with both hands in front of him. 

"You're in no danger," Jack said, half looking away, now feeling embarrassed. 

"You creature from hell!" said Decatur still standing defensively. Jack whirled around and faced Decatur with the point of the sword impressed at his chest. 

"I am cursed of hell but I am not from hell," Jack protested. I have a heart and feelings, too!" 

"You can't seriously think of gaining Mary's hand. That is madness." 

"Of course. But tell me how living with an immortal is reason?" he asked pointing down to Jamie. 

"Reason seems to have disappeared this night, Mr. Leeds. All is bedlam." 

Jack looked at them and sighed, "I will trouble you no more." He turned and walked away slowly, too worn out to attempt to fly. "But take heed, Commodore. Captain Barron means to have your head, sooner or later." 

Decatur ran into the house after Mary, leaving Jamie alone, once again, to pick himself up and move toward his quarters by the light of the solitary moon. 

The next day, Jamie pleaded with Decatur not to show up for the duel. 

"James, I have the advantage now. He doesn't have Mary and that lessens his edge. He will be unnerved by it."" 

"Never, ever underestimate your opponent. I would think you'd know that well, by now! Barron's unlikely just to let things get out of his control so easily. He very well could have something else planned. By all that is holy, Commodore, you are naïve!" 

"Remember your place, sir!" 

"My apologies, Commodore, but it is your welfare that leads me to the brink of irrationality." 

"What will be, will be, James." 

"I don't believe that!" 

Soon the appointed hour came and Decatur and Jamie waited for Barron to arrive. They didn't have to wait long. A group of men from the town stood close by, unused to the spectacle of two important men drawn into mortal combat. 

"Jesus, Stephen, think about what you are to do. You are giving the worst example to these people in condoning this type of reckless behavior and worst of all, you are taking the chance of depriving your service to your country. I absolutely don't understand you." 

"You don't have to. It's my honor. _My honor._ " 

"Oh, _no._ Damn your honor for the sake of my country!" Jamie said angrily. 

Barron and Decatur took their places, walked their ten paces and turned. Decatur fired first and entirely missed Barron. Barron aimed. 

At the precise moment, Jamie stepped in front of Decatur and took the bullet. Jamie fell back knocking Decatur to the ground. He held Jamie in his arms. It was still all too real for Decatur, not truly believing the immortal would come back to life. 

"James, you great fool," Decatur said tearfully. 

"It's all right, Stephen. I'll be all right." 

"This makes no sense to me." 

"Maybe it never will. Your country needs you, remember that. 

"I don't understand why that should be so important to you." "It's my home- my home-you are one of its keepers. Oh, Stephen, don't let them see me die! Take me away, please. I want to come back here." 

"It's too late for that, my friend." 

The crowd had gathered around seeing the obviously mortal wound. Barron, disgusted, threw down his pistol. Jamie grasped tightly to Stephen sleeve, released a last breath, and fell limp. 

"Commodore," said Barron as he walked away. " I will have you and next time, perhaps we will dispensed with all the formality." 

"Anytime, sir, anytime!" Decatur yelled after him. 

The Present - Chestnut Neck Inn 

"So that's it!" 

"Yup, what else did you expect?" 

"What happened to Jack and Mary? And Decatur and Barron?" 

"Mary went on to Red Bank, found a husband, and lived to be an old lady into her seventies, spying on unsuspecting immortals. Jack went back to the Pine Barrens and continued to harass the population until the turn of the twentieth century when he became the talk of Philadelphia. No, really. All written up in the newspapers of the time. Something happened to him then, but I'm not sure what it was. He changed into a human form but people still think they see a devil in the woods to this day. Stephen Decatur was an amazing hero. He did things that make any fiction pale in comparison. He's the guy that said, 'My country, right or wrong, but my country,' a phrase that became an anathema during the Vietnam Era and also hurt him deeply, by the way. In 1820, he finally wound up in a duel with Barron and was shot 'dead', if you remember your history. That was it for the Commodore and he had to become somebody else. Barron disappears in 1848. He had eventually received his commission back from the Navy, but not his actual position further increasing his nasty disposition." 

"And so what about you? You disappear in 1814 and don't show up again until 1850 as a lawyer in Massachusetts. Where were you all that time?" 

"None of your damn business. Let's go outside; I need some air." 

The whirr of an outboard motor intruded into my consciousness as we stepped toward the river. 

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© 2000   
Please send comments to the author! 

06/28/2002 

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